His new stepsister His biggest threat (Claire and Elijah) novel Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

**Claire’s POV**

I bolted out of the bathroom before I even had the chance to step inside, my heart racing as if it were trying to escape my chest.

My hands trembled, a frantic flutter in my pulse making it impossible to keep track of time.

I didn’t stop until I was halfway down the hall, my back pressed firmly against the cool metal of the lockers, the echoes of their taunting voices still ringing in my ears like a haunting melody.

Breathe. Just breathe.

I attempted to concentrate, to draw in air the way Dr. Adrian had taught me during our sessions. In through the nose, out through the mouth. Slow and steady, like a gentle wave lapping at the shore.

But my heart had other intentions.

It thumped erratically, each beat reverberating like a hammer striking against my ribs. The discomfort that accompanied it was all too familiar—a tight, suffocating ache that always seemed to rear its ugly head whenever I was engulfed in fear or fury. Yet this time, it felt different. It was sharper, as if it had been lying in wait, ready to claw its way back into my life.

Panic surged up my throat, clawing at my insides.

My pills.

I realized, with a jolt of dread, that I didn’t have my pills.

They were nestled deep within my bag, which I had carelessly left in the cafeteria when Naomi and I parted ways for our classes. I swallowed hard, trying to think through the chaos in my mind, but the relentless pounding in my chest made rational thought impossible.

I just had to make it back. Back to the cafeteria, grab my bag, take a pill, breathe—

But the panic was consuming me. I needed to get back…

I turned sharply, only to collide with something solid.

Someone.

A broad chest met me, hard muscle and the comforting scent of cedar enveloping me. Strong hands caught me before I could stumble, steadying me in a way that felt unexpectedly reassuring.

“Whoa. Easy there,” came the voice, low and deep, infuriatingly familiar, cutting through the fog of my panic like a knife.

I blinked up, gasping for breath, my eyes wide with surprise.

Elijah.

His fingers tightened around my shoulders just enough to ground me, his scent—a blend of clean sweat, cedar, and a hint of cologne—washed over me, anchoring me in a way I hadn’t anticipated.

And then, something remarkable occurred.

The frantic beating of my heart began to slow.

Just like that.

One heartbeat, two, three… and the ache dulled, transforming into a calm rhythm that steadied my nerves.

Staring at him, I felt a mix of confusion and relief.

He looked down at me, a slight frown creasing his brow as his icy-blue eyes searched my face, concern etched in his features. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

For a moment, words escaped me. I was caught off guard—not only by the sudden sense of calm he brought but also by how close we were standing. And his tone… why was he so composed?

“L…” My voice emerged as a whisper, fragile and uncertain. “I’m fine.”

He didn’t seem convinced. His gaze dropped to my trembling hands, and I could see the worry etched across his face. “Claire. What happened?”

Something in the way he uttered my name twisted my stomach into knots. This was not the Elijah I knew.

And then, Naomi’s voice from last night echoed in my mind, shattering the calm I had just begun to feel.

I pulled away from him instinctively, shoving his hand off my arm with a sudden rush of anger. “It’s none of your business.”

He blinked, clearly taken aback. “Excuse me?”

But there was no sign of my folder.

Frowning, I scanned the tables again, desperation creeping in. Maybe I had left it somewhere else.

Then it struck me.

I had actually dropped it in my locker.

I recalled slipping it in there earlier that morning before homeroom, intending to reorganize it later.

Without thinking, I pivoted and hurried down the corridor.

Naomi’s warning flickered in the back of my mind, but I was already moving too swiftly to heed it. I just needed to grab the folder and leave.

The hallway outside the lockers was eerily silent. My footsteps echoed faintly as I approached.

Everything appeared normal from this vantage point. The rows of metal doors stood like sentinels, the familiar scent of polish, paper, and faint teenage sweat enveloping me.

I reached my locker, twisting the lock open with a weary sigh. I couldn’t wait to get home, shower, sleep, and indulge in a nice bowl of—

Suddenly, pain erupted through my body.

White-hot. Violent.

It felt as if I had been struck by lightning, every nerve in my chest and arms igniting in a blaze of agony all at once. My scream never escaped my lips, trapped behind clenched teeth as my body jerked back involuntarily.

The current surged up my arm, into my chest. My heart spasmed, skipping beats, stuttering, then seizing in a paroxysm of pain that was unbearable, yet it all happened in mere seconds.

And then, there was nothing.

My vision turned white, and the world around me faded into oblivion.

I hit the floor.